


Northern Exposure

by Kirsten



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Pre-Series, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-25
Updated: 2002-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirsten/pseuds/Kirsten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things were different in the north.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Northern Exposure

Things were different in the north.

They'd warned him, of course. Don't talk to strangers, they'd said. Don't stray too far, or you'll be lost forever.

He lay on a blanket, in a field in the middle of nowhere, with a guy he'd met that afternoon. He gasped words, words that probably weren't English, and he wore nothing at all.

Lex liked the north of England.

He came in the guy's mouth and felt the slick of the other guy's come against his thigh, hot and wet. Lex closed his eyes and allowed himself to be touched.

The guy made a show of licking Lex's dick and balls clean before stretching out at Lex's side. "You're very sexy," he said, his tone polite and faintly apologetic.

The field they were in was full of sheep and sheep shit. Lex didn't much care about the lack of cover, or the B-road less than twenty feet away, but he did care about the stench. He flopped out an arm and dug around in his jacket pocket for a minute. He smiled when he found the packet of Marlboros. "What did you say your name was?"

The other guy laughed. "You're funny, Lex."

Lex shrugged. He fumbled for his lighter. Lit his cigarette. "Glad you think so," he murmured, a little puzzled. It had been a genuine question.

The smoke was harsh and heavy in his lungs. He inhaled a couple of times, concentrating on the nicotine and not the smell of crap, and then sat up.

"Bad habit," said the guy, still lying on the ground. His arms were folded behind his head, his eyes closed against the evening sun.

"Yeah." Lex considered the point for a second, and then took a final drag and stubbed it out in the dirt. Time to quit. Maybe. He'd see how it went.

He watched the guy beside him for a couple of minutes. He was okay, Lex supposed. Not up to his usual standards, but still . . . okay. Tall, dark, slim. He had a nice cock, ivory white and rose-tipped. Uncut. Lex liked that. Nice eyes, too, come to think about it. Hazel like whiskey.

Lex dressed slowly. Jeans, and a shirt with short sleeves; he was proud of his needle tracks. He worked hard for them, had paid for them with things more fragile than money, and they always disappeared too soon.

He shoved his bare feet into the black boots he'd picked up from a thrift store in Camden about a month back. He'd worn them at home on vacation. His father, when he finally bothered to come home from the office, had said he looked cheap. Lex had smirked and said that he liked to look cheap. His father had glared; they both knew Lex liked to look cheap because it pissed his father off.

Lex hated it. Hated the way he was sucked into the game, even when he didn't want to play.

"I'm going up to Edinburgh," said the guy on the ground.

"So?"

"So," the guy said. "Are you up for it?"

Lex wanted a cigarette. He picked up the packet of Marlboros and examined it for a moment, and then turned and balanced the box on the guy's softened dick. "Post-modern fig leaf," he said, giddy and stoned and not a little drunk, although on what he really didn't know. Life, perhaps, or the thrill of self-discipline.

He didn't know how he'd ended up so far away from London, either, but it presumably had something to do with the acid he'd tripped out on last night.

"A post-modern fig leaf for a post-modern Adam," the guy agreed. "Come to Edinburgh and be my Eve?"

Lex smiled and huffed a breath in something that might have been amusement. He couldn't say for certain; he'd forgotten what it was to laugh.

"I can't."

"Ah." A non-judgemental sound of acceptance. The guy opened his eyes and grinned. His expression was very knowing. "Going back to school?"

Lex bristled. "I'm eighteen."

"And I'm the queen of England."

Lex liked his accent. Soft and lilting, more Celtic than English. He'd noticed that about the north. But then, this was border country. The people here were practically Scottish. He decided to let the comment go, and put it down to some weird feeling of ancestral affinity. "Going to get dressed?"

"Na." The syllable was sharp, although the tone was not. "Think I'll stay here and commune with nature. I've got a fig leaf, you know."

Lex did laugh that time. His face felt cracked and strange. He really hadn't laughed for such a long time.

He turned and bent slowly at the waist, giving the guy a good show. Picked up his jacket and paused, fingering the silver lighter in his pocket. It had belonged to his grandfather. His mother had given it to him just before she died.

My mother's dead, he realised.

And she wasn't coming back.

"Here." He tossed the lighter to the guy on the ground. It landed on his chest, just under his chin, and the guy jumped and cursed at the shock of chilled metal against his skin. He glared at Lex for a second, then smiled.

"Sure you don't fancy Edinburgh?"

"I'm certain. How do I get back to London?"

The guy smirked. "Depends. How much money have you got?"

Billions, Lex thought, but didn't say so. It was more exciting to live without his father's wallet. "A ten?"

"Ha. Looks like you're hitching, then. The A1's about five miles that way." The guy waved his arm in a direction Lex identified as east.

Lex nodded his thanks. "Catch you later," he threw out, and then turned and walked toward the road. The setting sun was warm and soothing on the back of his skull.

He congratulated himself. He was walking away from his youthful excesses. It was the first night of the rest of his life. He would turn over a new leaf, and other such clichés. Move on with life. Let go of his mother and stop clinging to her memory. Give up smoking. Drugs. Maybe not the drink. That would show his father.

The moon had risen when he realised his father hadn't made him do it. He'd played the game all by himself.

He crumpled to the ground.

And couldn't weep.


End file.
